


meditation of the heart

by MaddieContrary



Category: Hannibal (TV)
Genre: ASSCOC Collection, M/M, This is a hornominous dream, Though Hannibal might not know it yet
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-02
Updated: 2020-10-02
Packaged: 2021-03-08 05:13:22
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,196
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26770039
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MaddieContrary/pseuds/MaddieContrary
Summary: Hannibal dreamed of family.
Relationships: Will Graham/Hannibal Lecter
Comments: 2
Kudos: 64





	meditation of the heart

**Author's Note:**

  * For [ironlotus](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ironlotus/gifts).
  * Inspired by [A Consequence of Consumption](https://archiveofourown.org/works/20524820) by [ironlotus](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ironlotus/pseuds/ironlotus). 



> **Happy birthday Red! 💕 Thank you for bringing your wonderful stories into our lives, and happy anniversary to ACOC!!!**
> 
> Set after Chapter 17 of "A Consequence of Consumption".  
> If you haven't read this wonderful fic yet, you are missing out.  
> (Special thanks to AJ & Ciara for the beta!)

The forest around him was silent, and there were no other sounds except for the soft crunching of fallen leaves beneath his feet, and the sound of his own breathing, loud in his ears. The pine trees surrounding him were massive, towering monoliths, blocking out his line of sight when he tried to see the sky above him.

He hummed in consideration, trying to piece together the puzzle of where he was. The brush of his fingers against one of the pine trees brought him up short. The texture felt rough and oddly familiar underneath his fingertips, but there was something niggling at his mind when he turned to look at the orderly row of trees.

They were too precise, their arrangement so perfect that he felt sure that if he’d measured them, they would be perfectly equidistant from each other.

A dream, then.

His suspicion was confirmed when he turned around and saw a familiar figure standing nearby, silent, and assessing. Shock and awe were the only things stopping him from speaking her name out loud.

_Mischa._

In all his adult life, he had only dreamed of her sporadically, and the specter of her had faded once he had gotten his pound of flesh out of her captors. He did not expect to ever see her again, content to keep her in a special wing in his memory palace, memorialized but never forgotten.

He stared at her, transfixed, utterly speechless for someone who rarely found themselves without the right words.

Mischa grinned, then; guileless and innocent. She opened her mouth and said something, though no words came out of her mouth as she spoke.

He frowned and stepped closer to her, though the effort was in vain when he still could not discern any word or sound.

When it became apparent to Mischa that he could not hear her, it was her turn to frown, though her expression cleared almost immediately after and she beckoned for him to follow her.

Curious now, he acquiesced, indulgent in dreams as he was in life.

The forest around them grew denser the deeper they went, and he wondered to what end she would bring him to. Though it seemed as if they made progress in their journey, the scenery around them remained unchanged, and his disorientation grew the farther they went. Though Mischa bounded ahead in front of him, she would pause from time to time to check his progress as they wandered further into the woods, occasionally laughing at him when he stumbled on the roots of the trees in his dazed state. It pained him that he couldn’t hear her laughter here, though he knew she was merely an imprint of his sister.

Time was a tricky concept in dreams; one moment there were slivers of sunlight filtering through the trees, illuminating his way forward, and at the next moment the warm sunlight was gone, replaced by the cold, silvery moonlight. He lost track of how long he had been chasing after Mischa’s shadow - he only knew that if he lost her now, he would never see her again. In true dream logic, the moment the thought flew into his mind, her figure disappeared beyond the trees.

In her place stood a stag.

Massive and majestic, the stag looked upon him in a benevolent manner, blocking his way forward.

He could finally hear the sound of Mischa’s laughter just beyond him, and the ache that he thought was long gone throbbed and taunted him, knowing that she lay once again beyond his reach.

A huff brought his attention back to the stag blocking his path.

“I mean no harm,” he said, arms raised warily.

As if it could understand him, the stag huffed again. Its dark eyes bore into him, silent and judgmental in its assessment. Each second felt longer than the next, and he felt flayed, torn open as if the beast's antlers were ripping through the layers of his mind. Time moved slow as molasses as he waited for the stag’s judgment with bated breath. There was no telling how much time had passed before the stag seemed to be satisfied by whatever it saw in him, and the creature withdrew as quickly as it came.

Stumbling to his feet, he made his way forward, trying to follow the path that Mischa had disappeared to, her laughter drawing him closer and closer until—

The sound of a rushing river greeted him, mingling with Mischa’s bubbling laughter.

There in the stream, two figures stood amidst the swift and shallow river, their silhouetted profiles highlighted by the moonlight.

There was no mistaking the other lone figure in the stream talking to Mischa, even when the soft curls framing his face were hidden by a cap, worn low to hide his features. The man was showing Mischa how to fish; the elegant arc the fishing rod made as he threw his lure inside the waters made for a mesmerizing sight from afar.

He could discern the cadence and tone of their voices as they spoke - low and bright, joyful, and unrestrained - and he longed to join them; to listen to their conversation, to be welcomed in the midst of their childlike camaraderie.

Mischa looked towards him as if hearing his thoughts, and her laughter reached him even from the distant stream, his heart soaring with it. She waved her hands at him before turning to the other man to speak to him.

His heart stuttered to a stop when their attentions were drawn to him, and he could finally see the man’ face as he smiled at him - radiant and almost blinding.

Will.

At once, they raised their arms to wave him over to join them, their voices raised to call him:

“Hannibal!”

The forest floors underneath his feet shattered, and he woke.

The first thing he became aware of was the state of his bed. He winced at the realization that his sweat had seeped through his sleeping clothes and onto the bedsheets. It had been years since a dream had affected him so.

Sitting up, he ruminated on the dream he had awoken from, monitoring his own heartbeat until the rapid rhythm returned to normal, and he could finally breathe again.

_I’ve been meditating on the subject of family._

The words he had uttered to Will so many days ago came back to him, unbidden though not necessarily unwelcome.

Surprised at the strength of the dream, he decided against going back to sleep, seeing as it would be an hour until he needed to be up in any case.

_Family_.

The thought of family had plagued him in the last few weeks, ever since the Lost Boys’ case. Though the case had concluded successfully, it looked as if the thought was still lingering at the back of his mind, enough for it to creep into his dream.

He thought back to Will’s radiant smile in the dream, bright and carefree. Had he ever seen the other man smile so widely in his waking moment?

What would it take, he wondered, to pull that expression from him?

In that moment, he decided he would find out.


End file.
